Lament

Those of you who visit or live in Jacksonville FL know of the recent closing of the Dollhouse. A little hole in the wall with a mix of nude dancers, including the hardest working stripper in the biz -- Katya -- who could always be counted on. I believe that she consistently worked double shifts and was pretty fuckin' hawt. With the closure of DH almost two months ago, I thought I would share my heavy heart...

When I was a windy boy and a bit
And the jizz spit of the DH fold
(Sighed my old ram rod, dying for women)
I tiptoed shy through the along Atlantic Boulevard
The nude slut showed her tell-tale tit
I skipped in a blush as the hot girls rolled
"Five-dollar down for full nude"
And on seesaw Sunday nights I tipped
Whoever I would with my wicked money
The whole of the moon I could love and leave
All the little covered single mothers
In the dim lit private room and let them grieve
(perhaps not grieve for this boy did tip well)

Am I still a gusty man and a half, or a man you can call a man?
'Twas the passing of my times when the Dollhouse closed
we shan'tsee the like of those rudegirls again in North Florida.
No, alas, we shan't. Except perhaps at Sinsations,
where the bar-maid doth doff her top
"Five-dollar down for bare breasts"
But this man is half the man he was
No Katya, no views of sweet, sweet vag on stage

I just thought we should elevate things round here. The neo-beat poetry that our friend Juice shares so enriches our lives. But when I read his words I realize that I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness. He has shared his visions from the LORD, excising the Satanic verses and giving us the true Sodom. But. Is. That. All? Will we find him starving hysterical naked in the street, feeding his chicken wing to a hooker? NO I say. We should bring in the arts, appreciating that sweet, sweet vag like we would sempre libera sung by Violetta. Only then can we save ourselves from being PLs